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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25371250">Lionfang Week 2020</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieisClassic/pseuds/JamieisClassic'>JamieisClassic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:54:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,791</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25371250</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieisClassic/pseuds/JamieisClassic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of works for the prompts for Lionfang Week, I'll post a brief summary and relevant ratings/tags for each chapter as we go. Not going to rate the whole work, but there'll be anything from G to E ratings in here.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Varok Saurfang/Anduin Wrynn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Lionfang Prompt Week</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. [G] A Heart Newly Fastened in Gold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After his interaction with Anduin in the Stormwind Stockade, Saurfang develops a fascination with gold. He can't place why, until he sees Anduin again.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this was meant to be fluff and it ended up being superbly bittersweet if canon compliant. This is probably the shortest thing I've ever written that I've posted and I'm trying not to feel insecure about it.</p><p>Tags: pining, implied one-sided attraction, minor hurt/no comfort, bittersweet, angst<br/>Rating: G</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There were golden threads in the blanket Zekhan had left him to sleep on once he got to the farm in Swamp of Sorrows. Normally, this would not even be something he would notice, colors hardly mattered to him aside from red and blue, and even then they were starting to blur in their significance. But as he spread the blanket on the damp, rotting wooden floorboards, the color stuck out to him, like a small ray of warmth in an otherwise cool and unfriendly world. As he laid down, the blanket softened the discomfort of the abandoned house perhaps more than it should have, and he fell into a light but restful sleep. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The waiting for Sylvanas’s troops was painful, but necessary, and he spent his days pacing and his nights listening even while he slept, but eventually they came, and were vanquished with the aid of the Horde champion who had come with Zekhan. Ashamed as he was to admit it, the gold of their new Zandalari-style weapons caught his eye more than their face, so much so that he couldn't even remember their race. All for the better, he supposed, given that if somehow he was caught and forced to speak by magic he wouldn’t be able to betray them. Nonetheless, the glint of gold captured him in a way he could never remember it doing in the past. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>When he’d made it to the Blasted Lands, the sand around him gleamed too bright to see past most of the day, but one evening as he traveled he caught the setting sun spreading its dying embers across the sand like so much burnished gold and his lungs seized. Beauty, he realized. He was becoming aware of beauty so much more acutely than he’d ever had cause to do so before and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he should know the reason why, the inciting incident, even as it was lost on him. Without meaning to, he found himself watching the sun burn the sand gold until it dipped beneath the horizon, leaving him to try and make some form of shelter in the semi-darkness of twilight.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>The plains of Nagrand were flowing, living seas of golden grass and the bluest sky above made his heart year for something he couldn’t quite put name or face to, but that left him feeling alone as he sat to share an evening meal with Aggra and Thrall before they headed to Kalimdor to try and save Baine. Conversation seemed to pass over him, and the slightly darkening sky and warm sunset-lit gold of the plains brought the scent of lavender inexplicably to his nose.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Varok?” Aggra asked, smiling a slightly cautious smile, “You’re going to break your bowl if you keep holding it that tightly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He released the grip he hadn’t realized he’d taken on the wood, “Apologies, I let my thoughts get the best of me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t entirely the truth, but not entirely a lie, and though he suspected Aggra could see right through him, she blessedly didn’t comment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thrall snorted, “I know there is much to be angry about at the moment, old friend, but there’s no need to take it out on my tableware.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Would you rather me take it out on the table?” he asked, stone faced but knowing Thrall would understand it for a joke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare,” he said more seriously than Saurfang would have expected, “I built this with my own two hands, I’ll have you know. You’re not destroying it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he was about to remind Thrall that he was only making a joke, Aggra laughed, “I don’t know, my love, it might be good therapy to let him destroy something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were silent for a moment before Thrall muttered, “Traitor,” and returned to his meal, the smile on his lips belying the snarkiness of his tone.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Dustwallow was a bleak, grey hellscape — so much so that even the gold of the various Sin’dorei troops’ gear seemed lackluster and dull. Saurfang leaned against the grey bricks of the dilapidated tower as he waited for the Alliance’s High King to arrive, and saw the way even the dying light of the setting sun couldn't bring gleam to the camp in front of him. Surprisingly pained by that thought, he turned away from the opening in the wall and paced the inside of the tower. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The clamor of the crowd below him grew and then fell into a hush, which he assumed indicated that the party he was waiting for had arrived, but even knowing that he couldn’t bring himself to look for fear he, too, would be dulled by the marsh. Boots pounded on the stairs, however, and he knew he would have to face him sooner or later.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned to face the man as he finished climbing the stairs, but any greeting he’d prepared died on his tongue when he saw him. Anduin, it seemed, not only wasn’t affected by the perpetual and contagious grey of Dustwallow, he, like his own little sun, actively chased the dullness away, and the grey of the old stones around him seemed precious in his presence. His eyes were the deep, wondrous blue of a long summer evening’s pre-sunset sky, his hair the gold of the Stormwind lion, and the threads of the blanket Saurfang had slept on in Swamp of Sorrows, and the Horde chapion’s Zandalari weapons, and the dusk-golden sands of the Blasted Lands, and the sun-warmed plains of Nagrand. Suddenly, the realization of what, or rather </span>
  <em>
    <span>who</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’d been missing clicked into place, but there was neither time nor space for him to consider just exactly what that meant.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so they concluded a conversation, Anduin’s words poetic and golden in a way Saurfang’s never would or could be, and allied against Sylvanas in hopes of bringing a better future for both their peoples. As they walked down to meet with their troops, he watched enraptured as the firelight danced on Anduin’s hair, watched it give the young man a gleaming lion’s mane that suited his ferocity, and felt that newfound love of beauty rejoice in it. But then they were leaving, separated once again, and for all he’d discovered about himself, for all this new appreciation for golden things and one particular golden King made him feel changed, there was nothing to be done for the reality of who and what he was — an old Orc with more scars than virtues.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so he watched Andiun fade into the crowd of his own troops and tried, as hard as he could, to let go of how much he already wanted him back in his line of sight, if not to have, then at least to look upon.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm <i> sorrry </i> okay? But it was too good as a bittersweet little drabble to turn it into anything else and also I wrote this yesterday lmao. I'm combining two of the days (probably) which is why there are only 6 chapters predicted, but I'm going to try and get everything out on time. Given that, editing might be a tad of a mess so I'm sorry for mistakes in this and what will likely be in the future chapters as well!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. [E] Closer to the Flames, Hot Enough to Touch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Day 2, Warmth: Travelling through the deserts of Uldum together, Anduin and Saurfang find themselves sharing a bed and the comfort of Saurfang's warmth in the cold of the night turns heated.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>To make up for the bittersweet I threw at y'all yesterday, here, have some suggestive bed sharing. It's my fav trope so I had to give it a try. Also, the context to this is... vague at best so honestly don't try to figure out what the plot is. I'm giving 'er an E rating not an M because although its not super explicit, better safe than sorry.</p><p>Tags: bed sharing, frotting, clothed sex, verbal restraints<br/>Rating: E</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Anduin surveyed the small one-room cabin with trepidation. Woe as he was to criticize the only shelter they’d been able to find in this Light-forsaken desert, the room would have been barely comfortable for one Human man, nevermind a Human and a larger-than-average Orc, and the bed which was pressed against the wall was doubly so.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind the floor,” he announced, taking his pack off his shoulders to find the bedroll, but paused at Saurfang’s response.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not going to happen.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know it’s a point of pride to avoid admitting pain, but I also know your back won’t hold up as well to the floor as mine will,” Anduin crossed his arms and turned to face him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang just huffed, and marched over to a blanket that had been haphazardly tossed on the ground. He gave it a nudge, almost cautiously, and a moment later Anduin understood why as a handful of little scorpids scattered away from it. He squeaked and jumped away as one rushed toward his foot and grabbed his pack up off the floor, giving it a good hard shake to make sure it was scorpid-free. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Little fuckers are venomous and like to target anything on the ground. I wouldn’t recommend leaving your things on it, nevermind yourself,” Saurfang explained, looking just a little bit amused at Anduin’s frightened demeanor. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, don’t make fun of me, okay? I’m not exactly from the desert,” it took every ounce of will in his body not to pout. He’d spent hours as they trekked through the desert trying to make sure he wasn’t a burden, trying to get Saurfang to stop thinking of him as some spoiled King who’d never worked a day in his life, and here he was, screaming like a frightened child at the sight of a few bugs. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang just snorted, “No need to be so defensive, your majesty, the peons are always terrified of these little things too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin wanted to protest, but wasn’t sure quite how to voice his irritation with the comparison without disparaging himself in the process, or at the least leaving himself open for further barbs. However, before he was able to formulate a decent response, Saurfang was speaking again, “I apologize, that clearly didn’t come across as a joke in Common.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“A joke?” he shouldn’t have felt hopeful, but he did nonetheless. Was he finally going to see the friendlier side of the High Overlord?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Clearly a poorly conceived one, I apologize,” he replied gruffly, posture closed off and shoulders stiff. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin cursed himself for not seeing the comment as a joke in the first place, and having lost the opportunity to finally get to know the man a little. A voice in his head reminded him that they’d be sharing a very small bed, and he’d have plenty of time to </span>
  <em>
    <span>get to know him</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he told it to go fuck itself. Orcs were attracted to strength, and if there was anything that his little sojourn with Saurfang had taught him so far, it was that his measly biceps and anxious demeanor were anything but the Orcish definition of strong. For all Anduin found himself hopelessly attracted to the older man, he very much doubted there was anything about himself that interested Saurfang. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They went about arranging the room in tense silence after that, Saurfang clearly decided against speaking and Anduin unsure what he could say that would make it better. When Anduin had set a small fire in the hearth and Saurfang had spread what blankets they had between them on the small bed, they both came to sit — Saurfang on the single chair and Anduin perched on the table — before the fire and eat a small portion of rations. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t offended, you know,” Anduin finally broke the silence, hoping he wouldn’t make things worse, “and I know I haven’t said it but I appreciate you being willing to speak in Common. If we were trying to converse in Orcish I’m sure telling a bit of a flat joke would be the least of my troubles.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang snorted and, blessedly, cracked a bit of a smile, “Well, that last bit is true for certain.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And it was. When they’d first started the trip through Uldum together he had tried his hand at speaking Orcish with Saurfang, but after a few stuttered sentences Saurfang just snorted and told him, in Common, not to bother. At the time he’d worried he’d offended the man, but now he thought it possible he’d found it humorous. He wanted to ask, but couldn’t find the words to do so without making the offense, if in fact real, seem trivial. So they stared into the fire together, in silence that was charged but not entirely uncomfortable, as if they both had things they wished to express but lacked the words to do so adequately. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally, Saurfang broke the silence, “We should rest, the more ground we cover before the sun is too high in the sky for us to move at speed the better.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin nodded and made his way to the bed, suddenly realizing that every warning he’d received about the desert being deceptively cold at night was frighteningly true, and the meager blankets that covered the bed didn’t seem like nearly enough now that he was away from the fire. Not wanting to seem weaker than he’d already made himself to be, though, he simply tucked himself into the bed and the blankets and tried to hold the shivers at bay once they crept up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang took a little while to actually make it to bed, seeing to the fire and ensuring their belongings were securely placed where the scorpids wouldn’t get into them, but when he finally did, massive frame squeezing into the space behind Anduin, he found himself immensely grateful for the smallness of the bed. He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm</span>
  </em>
  <span>, body heat radiating off him like a pan of coals placed at the foot of a bed and Anduin had to actively work not to snuggle closer into his bulk to keep himself warm. Thankfully for him, though, that desire became much easier to fight when Saurfang, with a huff, turned over and pulled Anduin to his chest, palm almost blazing against the cool skin of Anduin’s stomach through his shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were squirming,” Saurfang grunted in explanation, and Anduin had half a mind to protest the accusation but was rather too distracted by the heat that now washed through him from Saurfang’s closeness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hummed and nuzzled back into Saurfang’s chest for a second before stopping himself, “Sorry, didn’t mean to do that.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure you didn’t,” Saurfang replied with a snort.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey! I’m serious!” And he twisted around in his grip until they were chest to chest, only then realizing that Saurfang had rid himself of his shirt, “Aren’t you cold?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin felt the chuckle more than heard it, “Not really, we Orcs have a higher body temperature and stay warmer than you little Humans do.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Anduin protested, even though he knew it was untrue — even amongst Humans he was slender and on the shorter side, there was no denying that. And compared to an Orc? Well, he was downright tiny.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not to be contrary, your majesty,” Saurfang replied, draping one very large hand over his waist such that it nearly touched the bed on both sides of him, “But I rather think you are quite </span>
  <em>
    <span>little.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Any potential response he could fire back got stuck in his throat when Saurfang squeezed that massive hand around his middle, and the only sound he managed to make was a punched out whine. It was hard to say in the darkness, but from the rumbling under his palm where it pressed to Saurfang’s diaphragm — and when had he put it there again? — he got the sense that this response was pleasing to the older man. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Unsure as he felt about how to proceed, he was saved from having to do anything when Saurfang pushed him onto his back and levered himself up on one elbow to hover over him. With his hand splayed over his abdomen as it was, Anduin felt warmed to his core and hotter still from the position, but he wished desperately to be able to see the man above him. So, without paying it too much thought, he raised a hand and brought forth just a sliver of the Light to glitter in the air above the bed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Blinking in the sudden brightness, Anduin took in the sight of the other man, and the sight of said man taking in </span>
  <em>
    <span>him. </span>
  </em>
  <span>And, oh but Saurfang was clearly enjoying the sight revealed to him in the light, if the clench of his jaw and the massively blown pupils were anything to go by. Anduin supposed he must have been a sight — hair splayed out around him on the pillow, abdomen encompassed by one of Saurfang’s hands, shirt loose and twisted at the collar revealing far more of his chest than he typically let anyone see — and Saurfang was drinking him in like a man dying of thirst. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin reached up to try and grip at Saurfang’s shoulder, almost wishing he was wearing something over his chest just to make it easier to grab at him, and arched his back up against the hand holding him down. He wanted, terribly, for this man to touch him, had wanted it for longer than his pride would let him admit, and here he finally was, stretched out beneath him and near about begging for it. And yet, despite the blown pupils and rapid breathing, Saurfang pulled back, hand lifting from Anduin’s body to pull his hand away from his shoulder and posture drawing closed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, your majesty, I’ve been uncouth,” Saurfang grunted, and it almost seemed like he was making to get out of bed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be absurd, Saurfang, you’ve done nothing uncalled for,” Anduin reached again for him, trying to hold him in place even though there was no real chance of him doing so if Saurfang wished to move.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He snorted, “You’re wrong. I don’t want you to think I’m a dirty old Orc who can’t keep his hands to himself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What about what I want?” Anduin asked, digging his nails into Saurfang’s skin, “What if I want you to not keep your hands to yourself?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anduin,” Saurfang said, tone all warning and restraint but Anduin was having none of it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You can do as you wish, High Overlord, but you don’t get to dictate my desires. Especially given how clearly unfamiliar you are with them,” Anduin snapped, irritation and rejection churning into a knife in his chest that some part of him wanted to wield against Saurfang.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But Saurfang just sighed, “Evidently.” He very cautiously placed his hand over Anduin’s ribcage and Anduin arched his back steeply into the touch, perhaps playing it up a little more than necessary, but from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>heat</span>
  </em>
  <span> in Saurfang’s eyes it wasn’t going underappreciated. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” Saurfang asked, sounding a little awed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” he breathed out the word like a prayer, “Very serious.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then who am I to deny you anything?” and perhaps it should have sounded begrudging, perhaps that was how it was intended, but Anduin could only parse a tone that was half shocked and half reverent. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before Anduin really could process that, however, Saurfang was levering himself up on his elbow again and sliding one knee between Anduin’s legs so he could hover over him. Anduin quickly decided that wasn’t quite what he wanted despite how good it felt to be overwhelmed by the man’s bulk, and pressed his palm to Saurfang’s chest with enough force to get the man to pause. “I want to be on top,” he said, and felt Saurfang quiver. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They repositioned such that Anduin was straddling Saurfang’s waist and he groaned when leaning down to kiss one of his tusks gave him blessed friction. He rolled his hips, letting himself just feel the pleasure for a moment, and kissed the other tusk in front of him. When Saurfang’s hands came up to grip his hips, Anduin pulled back with a tsk, “Hands off, you don’t get to touch until I tell you to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang fish-mouthed for a moment before returning his hands to his sides, digging them into the bed frame hard enough to dent the metal. And when Anduin pressed a soft kiss to his thick lower lip before sliding his body down to roll his hips over the visible tent in Saurfang’s pants, he could feel the man trembling beneath him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re shaking,” he teased, though the barb was taken from the words by the pitched whine that left his throat immediately following them, because for all he was enjoying controlling Saurfang, there was little he could do to control the pleasure that raced up his spine from their grinding. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang’s hips bucked. “You’re beautiful,” he groaned, and it almost sounded like an accusation. With another roll of his hips up into Anduin’s own, he cursed in Orcish, “I’m not going to last like this.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Like this?’” Anduin asked, letting his hips roll faster and wishing they had the time and space for him to get the frankly incredible cock he could feel beneath him inside him properly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, like this. You… do things to my head, boy. I’m far too old to be this close this fast,” Saurfang’s hips bucked again and Anduin could have sworn he heard the bed frame creak in protest to the grip he’d taken on it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin grinded faster against Saurfang’s cock, thighs shaking from the effort and pleasure of it all, but managed a snort, “I’m quite sure I’m not ‘boy’ in this situation, but I’ll forgive you this time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a sound that was almost a keen, Saurfang muttered, “Apologies, your majesty.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And wasn’t that something, Anduin thought. For all he saw the moniker as a formality in other situations and almost had felt disappointed by the distance it created between them, here, in this context, it made his head spin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I… please can I touch you?” Saurfang’s voice had gone strained and thin, but Anduin didn’t think his would be much better if he spoke so he just nodded and a moment later was rewarded with a large, hot palm gripping him by the hip, the other holding onto his thigh. Using the grip as leverage, Saurfang thrust against him in little rolls of the hips that made Anduin voice pitch up into a whine and his whole body shiver.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A long moment of frantic grinding later and Anduin felt the tension in his body snap, thighs clenching around Saurfang’s hips and fingernails dragging deep welts into his chest as he came hard. Saurfang didn’t stop moving, hips still rolling against him chasing his own release for a few overlong seconds that seemed to stretch on forever, then he, too, was growling out his release as his hips jerked and then froze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they’d relaxed, Anduin falling forward to rest against Saurfang’s chest, Saurfang grumbled something about his pants being sticky, but made no move to clean himself up. With a happy sigh, Anduin snuggled himself closer to the warm body beneath him and promptly fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm combining days 3 &amp; 4 but depending on when I have it done I'll be posting a little (and I mean really little) interlude drabble on whichever day I don't post for. We're still going strong so far, and I'm very excited to finish and share my day 5 because its gon' be GOOD y'all. Stay tuned for more, and thanks for reading ❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. [T] Interlude: Your Skin to Mine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A small interlude about skin.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Tags: fluff, my weird headcanons about Orcish skin<br/>Rating : T</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Saurfang frowned and ran his thumb over the pocked skin on Anduin’s cheek. He’d never talked about how the marks had gotten there, or whether they still hurt, and had they not been so intimately involved he would likely never have said anything. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As it was though, Anduin had just come on his cock more than a couple times and was looking resplendent and blissful in the firelight, loosening Saurfang’s tongue just enough to ask, “What happened here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm?” Anduin turned his face to look at Saurfang curiously, “What do you mean?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“These scars, where did they come from? Were you exposed to Plague when you were younger? Or was it an acid?” he asked, and at Anduin’s incredulous expression tried to scramble for something perhaps more plausible, “A disease you had as a child? A fire? Bugs? Why are you looking at me like that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin laughed, a bright sound that made his stomach swoop, “My love, they’re acne scars. My skin was quite my enemy when I was a teenager.” He paused, looking considering, “Do Orcs… not get acne?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I don’t even know what that word means,” Saurfang admitted, almost embarrassed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a common thing amongst Human, Dwarvish and Gnomish teenagers, probably a hormone response to puberty. But anyway, it creates these little pussy bumps that pop open on the skin, and a whole lot of extra oil. It’s pretty nasty, even if it's common, and a lot of people end up with scars from it. Mine was particularly bad, it’s why I have such a dedicated routine every night,” Anduin explained, and thinking back Saurfang thought he could remember seeing the odd Human here or there that had red and white bumps on the skin of their face. He hadn’t realized it was a part of growing up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did it hurt?” he found himself curious.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not usually, but sometimes I would get these deeper pimples right on my eyebrows that would hurt whenever I moved them. And with how much I move them, well, it was rather headache inducing,” Anduin waggled a brow exaggeratedly and they both laughed. Anduin paused, then looking away from him, “Do you think they’re ugly? The scars, I mean.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“They’re a part of you, Anduin, I could never think they’re ugly,” he murmured, and to prove his point kissed along the scarred skin of Anduin’s cheek. “You’re beautiful, they’re beautiful. And even if they weren’t, I love you. Beauty hardly matters.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He kissed him again, this time on the mouth, just to drive the point home.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Posting later than I meant to but only because I got distracted last night with other things and forgot. Day 3/4 will hopefully be done in time for tomorrow, but it's turning out to be more of a beast than I anticipated so we'll see. I really wish I could be reading more of the other works that are coming out rn, but I'll have to do that after LFW is over *cries*</p><p>also lmao I have no idea how to know what to rate things so if this shouldn't be T let me know??? I only write E stuff most of the time idk how this works</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. [T] A Midsummer Night's Dance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Day 5, Culture: Anduin partakes in a sacred dance and ends up invoking a jealousy in Saurfang that neither of them expected; or, Anduin's hips don't lie.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please excuse my massive liberties taken with Orcish culture here, I just really love sacred sexuality and I've been reading too much about Hathor in one of the books I have I think. Also, I don't regret that title one bit but I'm apologizing anyway 😅</p><p>Tags: sensual dancing, seduction, jealousy, fade-to-black (sort of), minor Anduin/OMC<br/>Rating: T</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The gathering was meant to be in celebration of midsummer, with a massive bonfire and cinnamon-spiced drinks, but everyone in attendance knew it was in equal measure a celebration of the, albeit tenuous, peace that had bloomed between the Horde and Alliance since Sylvanas’s desertion and Saurfang’s near-death at the gates of Orgrimmar a handful of weeks ago. Talks had been underway to determine a new power structure, and Saurfang had never been more grateful for Thrall’s wisdom and aid as he helped him lead the Orcish people into a better future. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>However, the celebration itself was it’s usual bright self, fire blazing and red streamers everywhere, colourful explosions going off above the city (and sometimes within it, when the Goblins messed up their designs), and drinks being handed out and consumed freely. As the evening wore on, some of the older dances came to the forefront — the kind that the Alliance had tried to weed out in their camps, deeming them savage and uncouth; dances of sexuality and sensuality that were equal parts beautiful seduction and natural spirituality. These dances connected them to their past and their present, their future and their ancestors, and they were as sacred as they were sexual. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, when he saw them preparing, Saurfang’s first spike of anxiety was focused on the presence of Genn Greymane, who looked about as uncomfortable as possible in such an Orcish environment. That anxiety eased when Jaina came and led him back toward the inn they were staying in, likely understanding what was to come and politely removing them both. His second spike of panic came at the realization that the young High King was not with them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Scanning the crowd in search of that telltale golden hair, he didn’t see Anduin until it was too late and the dancers were coming forward with him amongst them. Apparently the King was not only keen on being present, but he also wished to participate. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, Saurfang would admit that there was a strong chance this was a joke — any Orc worth their salt knew that Humans couldn’t dance for shit, not with their hips at least — but the image of the pretty blond loosening the front of his shirt and rolling his sleeves to at least somewhat match the general undress of his fellow dancers was in and of itself far more seductive than it had any right to be and he somehow doubted Anduin would have any trouble taking any person in the crown to bed should he desire to. Saurfang doubted even abysmal dancing could ruin the pure sexuality of the young man looking quite so at ease in his own skin and casual clothing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The minute the drums picked up, however, and the dancers began to move, any question of whether or not Anduin could dance fell to the wayside in exchange for awe — not only could he dance, but he could do so with a fluidity generally reserved for Trolls or Elves, and an intensity only reserved for Orcs. The dance was never choreographed, but there were a set of moves that the dancers generally used, and whether from academic study or having been shown Anduin had mastered them all. Given the heavy-set Orcish woman dancing next to Anduin’s little smile, glowing with what Saurfang could only describe as smug pride, he got the sense someone had taught the Human king and was rather impressed by how well he had learned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As surprising as Anduin’s skill was, the reaction of the crowd once they'd adjusted to the thought of him was anything but — people pushed forward to where he was dancing and would reach out to be chosen, as was tradition. It was never the obligation of the dancer to choose a partner, but if they did that person’s claim on them would be absolute until the night was over unless either party revoked their interest. This claim transcended boundaries of bonds, of promises, of anything really, and was widely considered the influence of the Spirits on a person’s psyche. To choose a partner for the night was as sacred as the dance, as were any activities that consummated that choice, and though the general understanding of this was indeed unjealous, the less devout often struggled a little more when their mates were dancing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang had always laughed at it, the jealousy he’d seen is his friends’ or soldiers’ faces when their lovers were sacredly driven to take another partner by the spirit of the dance, but when Anduin drew very, very close to taking the hand of a strapping young Orcish man, warm umber skin lined with Warsong tattoos and figure hulking, some violent thing unfurled in his chest in silent rage. Thankfully for all involved, Anduin flitted away last minute, throwing the man a teasing wink and moving back closer to the bonfire, saving Saurfang from having to end the man’s life before he touched Anduin, sacred rites be damned. The thought made Saurfang pause: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Where did that come from?</span>
  </em>
  <span> But then Anduin was bouncing his hips, balls of his feet planted wider than shoulder-width and heels lifting to aid the movement, and something possessive grew in him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wanted Anduin, he realized, and he wanted him all for himself, not just for a night but for as long as Anduin would tolerate him. Logically he knew that was very likely not at all, and that Anduin should really take the Warsong up on his offer, but every animal instinct in him was telling him to </span>
  <em>
    <span>claim.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Perhaps the Spirits were at work, because the beat came to a deafening crescendo and when the circle fell silent but for the cracking of the fire, Anduin was still standing alone. It didn’t last long, of course, and he was soon swamped with admirers all asking him how he’d learned to dance and whether he was participating in the activities that followed dances. A loud snarl from the Warsong that had caught Anduin’s eye earlier scared off the two Elves that were getting a little handsy, and though Saurfang was sure Anduin could have handled it himself, the the very </span>
  <em>
    <span>warm</span>
  </em>
  <span> look it earned the Orc from Anduin was nearly rage-inducing. But still, his logic was stolid and he refused to approach even as the Warsong went to one knee in front of the beautiful blond and brought his hand to his lips, making Anduin giggle. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Even trying not to listen, his ears betrayed him and the conversation floated into his awareness anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That is the human tradition, no?” the Orc asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Somewhat, though generally that is done to ladies of the court, not men,” Anduin replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang could almost hear the frown that must have pinched the man’s face, though he could not see it, “Why would something be done only to women?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin just laughed sadly, “A good question, and probably a reason Human’s didn’t get along with Orcish culture well in the past; it seems to bring up all of the dark parts of our culture. But enough on that, I think.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>From his perch a couple yards away, Saurfang watched mournfully as Anduin drew himself into this man’s space, one hand on his bare chest and the other curling around his belt. The Warsong was sliding a hand under Anduin’s shirt and leaning over him, and Anduin seemed pleased but said something that made the Orc pause, look around him, and sheepishly take Anduin’s hand instead and lead him away. Saurfang got the sense he’d been so absorbed in Anduin’s presence, he’d forgotten they were in public. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they walked away, Saurfang continued to war with himself in brooding silence — he was so very unworthy of Anduin’s attention, and it was absurd to be jealous, but he couldn’t stop the ache in his chest at seeing him touched by another man. Feeling masochistic, Saurfang followed after them, justifying it as wanting to keep the king safe for diplomatic reasons, though he knew he was lying to himself. When they dipped into an alley, unable to keep their hands to themselves any longer, he did his best to remain hidden as he watched from a distance, feeling both perverted and pleased to steal their privacy from them. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That pleased feeling didn’t last however, as quite quickly, just as the Orc was lifting Anduin up by the thighs to press him against the wall, Anduin seemed to spot him and he said, “Saurfang.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a cold stone sinking in his abdomen where his stomach once was, he stepped from the shadows in shame, “High King. I apologize for intruding, I simply wished to ensure your safety.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin’s eyes snapped to him, so wide he could see the white all around the iris before he cooled his expression into something less openly shocked and looked down to his companion, “Perhaps we could pick this up another time? I need to discuss something with the High Overlord and I’m not sure how long it will take. I’m sure you know where I’m staying?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man nodded, but his lips tugged down and his feet scuffed the ground as he walked off. Anduin watched him go with an odd expression Saurfang couldn’t identify, then finally turned to him with a renewed blush on his cheeks. “I do apologize, High Overlord, I didn’t intend-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have no need of your apology, High King, I invaded your privacy and it’s hardly your fault that I was poorly hidden enough that you caught me watching,” Saurfang interrupted, feeling ashamed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Caught y- Oh! Yes, of course,” but Anduin’s voice was projected in a way that made his tone strange and insincere, and in a sudden moment of realization Saurfang put the pieces together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t catch me, did you? That wasn’t why you said my name at all,” he kept his voice as neutral as possible but the excitement and hopefulness was unmistakable in it nonetheless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, I didn’t see you. I…” Anduin looked away, flush on his cheeks all the brighter and that snarling, possessive thing in Saurfang’s chest preened.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You were thinking about me,” he guessed, approaching Anduin where he was leaning against one of the buildings that made up the alley. “Were you wishing I was him, or that I was there in addition to him?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin’s gaze snapped to him as he stepped close, bracketing him against the wall the way he had once, what seemed like a lifetime ago, in a prison cell in the Stormwind Stockades. He swallowed visibly, “The former, I think. I was going to approach you at the dance but there were more people interested in me than I’d expected and you didn’t join them so…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t show any interest, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Plus, you’re young and beautiful, why would you want someone like me? That young man you just sent packing could probably do much more for you than I could.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And here I was worried you saw me as a child,” Anduin snorted, “That ‘young man’ was merely a stand in for the Orc I wanted because he was the biggest one there, are you seriously blind to that?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A growl escaped his chest without him meaning it to and he found himself hoisting Anduin up by the thighs to press him against the wall, “Perhaps you could tell me again, just in case I missed it the first time.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I want you,” Anduin said simply, smiling at the pleased sound Saurfang made in response. “Would you like me to dance again and choose you this time?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That won’t happen for another couple months at least,” he cocked his head in confusion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin shook his head fondly, “I meant privately, you big idiot.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not-” he began to protest, then let the rest of the sentence sink in, “Oh. You meant… Oh. Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take me home, High Overlord,” Anduin leaned in to peck his tusk. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gently put Anduin back down, “Of course, your majesty.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin’s face scrunched up. “Anduin,” he corrected.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Varok,” Saurfang challenged, but Anduin just grinned and leaned into him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take me home and fuck me, Varok.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <span>With a breath to cool the heat that hearing his name spoken that way stirred, Saurfang tossed the man over his shoulder and started walking, impervious to his half-assed complaints and giggling. He was going to get what he wanted, </span>
  <em>
    <span>who </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wanted, and he wasn’t about to let that go to waste. Not again. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Obvs this is for day 5 not 3/4 as I promised. That one is going to be published later bc I wrote myself into a corner and don't have the energy to finish it atm. I'll post it separately when LFW is over and I have some time to pick at it until its right (I like it so far, it just needs work and about 3000+ more words than I have time for)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. [T] When You Hold Me Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Day 6, Strength: A collection of times Saurfang lends Anduin his strength.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This got a little away from me and ended up much more long-winded and sappy than simple meet-cute style "five time Anduin got picked up" kinda thing I had planned, but I like it this way too.</p><p>Tags: chronic pain, drinking, drunkenness, platonic feeding, fluff, flirting, hurt/comfort<br/>Rating: T</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Anduin finished his drink with a long swallow and held it forward for a refill from his drinking partner, who from the way he grimaced around his tusks was less than impressed with Anduin’s tolerance. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I think that's enough for you,” he grumbled, and Anduin pouted. The man laughed, “Don’t think you can puppy-eyes me into letting you die from alcohol poisoning, majesty, the High Overlord would have my head.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slumping forward on the table, he gestured rudely at the man and earned himself another laugh at the motion. When he’d snuck away from his guards to get a drink, hoping it would be easier to get away from them here in Orgrimmar where they weren’t so familiar with the potential escape routes, he hadn’t anticipated being caught by one of the city guards, and less so by one who seemed to understand his need for booze and offered to accompany him to the bar. Anduin suspected he saw it as an excuse to drink on the job — no captain could deny the importance of keeping the Alliance’s king safe — but he was grateful nonetheless. Though, Anduin realized with a surge of embarrassment, he hadn’t asked the man’s name.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As he opened his mouth to, a heavy set of footsteps approached and his drinking partner stood rapidly and saluted, “High Overlord!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At ease. I’m here to take the king back to his quarters,” Anduin felt a hand pulling him up into a more respectable sitting position and he was quite suddenly nose-to-nose with Saurfang, “Your friends are quite worried about you. Got all up worked up once they realized you’d disappeared.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shorry,” Anduin slurred, head spinning more than he’d expected it would now that his cheek wasn’t pressed to the coolness of the table, “‘ake me bag, ven.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang’s brows rose and he looked to the other Orc, “How much did you let him drink?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I tried cutting him off at least twice but he is sneakier than I’d assumed and also very good at manipulation.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang snorted, “That’s true enough. Return to your duties, I’ll bring him back to the hold.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Then Anduin was flying. Or maybe not quite </span>
  <em>
    <span>flying</span>
  </em>
  <span> because there were warm palms holding him by the waist, but he was sailing through the air for a moment until he was being wrapped rather affectionately in strong arms. Though in a more sober state he may have felt embarrassed being carried through the city on Saurfang’s hip like a sleepy child, as it was he drunkenly reveled in the man’s warmth and the spice-and-leather smell of his skin where his face pressed against Saurfang’s neck. With a content sigh, he nuzzled into him and found himself drifting to sleep. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Not too long after, as Anduin and a team of researchers surveyed the broken land that had once been Gilneas, he found himself in Saurfang’s arms again, though for less absurd if equally embarrassing reasons. The damp cool of the Gilnean climate wormed its way into anyone’s body, soaking like rain through clothing, blankets and bones and leaving you chilled and uncomfortable, but Anduin in particular was struggling. Though his old wounds rarely gave him grief any longer, except on the odd foggy morning in Stormwind if he found himself near the harbour, in this climate the damp chill seemed to permeate his joints and leave him aching all over. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was barely noon on their third day there, and already his knees were screaming at him with each step, his spine feeling shattered and his ankles and shins burning, but he simply grit his teeth and kept on walking. Despite his best efforts though, he fell behind the group, pain making it impossible to both maintain the facade of painlessness and keep up with the rest of the group. After half an hour or so of walking and standing around, going from survey point to survey point by foot as to avoid disturbing the land with their mounts’ weight, Anduin was met at the back of the group by a silent but watchful Saurfang.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As they began to approach another survey point, he spoke up, “You have that look about you that I used to see in the older veterans in Northrend when the damp got into their joints.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin looked over at him and raised an eyebrow, “Are you sure you’re not speaking about yourself right now, High Overlord?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang grunted and didn’t respond for a time. When he deigned to, he’d changed the subject, “If you find yourself wishing for rest and are not able to tell others about the pain, I’d be happy to find a reason for us to pause.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine,” Anduin grumbled, then realized that Saurfang hadn’t exactly accused him of not being fine, rather leaving the assessment in Anduin’s court and he corrected himself, “For now. But if something changes I will let you know. Thank you, Saurfang.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They made it to the next survey point, took their measures and an impromptu poll about whether Goblin or Gnomish geiger counters were more effective — neither, their Forsaken research leader argued, given they were meant to be measuring Plague not radiation, but that didn’t seem to matter to the Gnomes and Goblins that had started the poll — before moving on toward the next, about a two hour walk away. For all he’d hoped he would be okay, they were about three quarters of the way to their destination when Anduin’s knee simply gave out as he made to step onto it and he tumbled forward.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Time seemed to pause for a moment, and the crushing realization that he would have to admit to the whole team that his injuries were acting up and that he was not the strong, resolute man he tried to posit himself as hit him like a sack of bricks to the chest. However, before he could hit the ground, a strong hand hefted him back up by the back of his chestplate and held him up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Careful on the mud there, Majesty. Is your ankle alright?” Saurfang asked, looking genuinely concerned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ankle?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He thought to himself, then realized that Saurfang, Light bless him, had just given him an excuse to heal himself without drawing attention. “A little sprained perhaps I think,” he replied, “Thank you for catching me before I got a faceful of mud.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin brought a hand to his chest and let Light pulse through him, temporarily alleviating the pain that seemed to have filled every crack and corner of his body. Rejuvenated, he stood on his own, and gave Saurfang a genuine smile. “Thank you,” he said softly enough for only Saurfang to hear, and gave him a bright smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang glanced away with a grunt, and they carried on walking in silence. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Though his pain relief only lasted so long, Anduin was infinitely grateful for Saurfang’s intervention, and also that he’d managed to respect Anduin’s needs and desires while helping him, instead of coddling him like his father and even Genn had. When the day was done, however, and Anduin had built up his tent and was preparing to head to the fire for dinner, the pain came back screaming and worse than ever before. He gasped and just barely managed to drag himself onto his bedroll fully clothed before he was curling up fetal and shaking. At least he’d avoided being on the cold ground, which would have only made the pain worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, that is when he heard the call for food, and with tears in his eyes he tried to summon light to his fingers, only to find the pain was severe enough he couldn’t concentrate long enough to cast. Distantly, he heard voices outside his tent, a couple he didn’t have the mind to register, but one was definitely Genn’s. Fear lanced through his heart — if Genn saw him like this, shaking and in pain, he’d insist he return to Stormwind immediately and not let the argument go until Anduin left or rested for a number of days.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Much to his relief, however, Genn was waylaid just outside his tent by a deeper, less familiar though much more welcome voice: Saurfang’s. He wasn’t present enough in his mind to hear any of the words spoken, but after a brief interaction, a softer set of footsteps faded and heavier ones came to his tent and slipped the flap back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anduin? Ancestors, you look terrible.” If he’d been in less pain he might have cracked a joke about his informality, but as it were he just whimpered. Saurfang kneeled next to him and gently lifted him into a semi-sitting position, “What do you need? Armor off?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin nodded weakly and was grateful to be rested back on the ground and have his armor slowly and clinically stripped from him, leaving him in a simple jerkin and trousers. Then Saurfang was lifting him again, pulling him up into one arm while he turned down the bedroll so Anduin could lie in it properly, and under all the pain Anduin registered how nice it was to be lifted and held like he was nothing more than a slightly oversized doll. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang placed him in the bedroll, then stepped out to get something, returning a handful of minutes later with two bowls of stew balanced in one hand and a small sack. He sat next to Anduin, setting the food down before arranging Anduin and himself so that Anduin could partially sit up, resting against Saurfang’s thigh to avoid having to use his own strength. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank you, Saurfang,” he managed to get out, grateful that some of the worst of the pain was fading now that he was resting.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I will not judge you if you would like to be fed, but I leave the decision up to you,” Saurfang said, once again showing a grace about the whole situation that Anduin was grateful for. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For all it pained him to be this vulnerable around someone, he found himself agreeing, “That would be… very nice. Thank you.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang lifted one of the bowls and began spooning stew to Anduin, and soon his mind softened at the simple intimacy of the action. When he had finished feeding Anduin, he picked up the second bowl and ate his own, not taking nearly as long to all but drink the thick, heavily vegetable and meat laden liquid. Honestly, Anduin was a little impressed he didn’t choke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you were that hungry you could have eaten first,” his voice was thin, but warm food and rest was already helping him feel more like himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Pausing with his hand halfway to the bag he’d also brought in, Saurfang turned to him looking what Anduin would almost call sheepish, “That’s how I usually eat.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin felt his face heat and he gaped, “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>so sorry.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I didn’t mean any offence, simply I meant… I mean, it’s… you…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang laughed, and laid his thumb over Anduin’s lips, “You don’t have to apologize, I forget sometimes you Humans have rules against eating every meal like you’re a half-starved wolf.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His thumb let up it’s pressure, but stayed resting there against his bottom lip for a moment before he pulled away. Anduin felt his cheeks heating for a different reason, and tried to change the subject, “What’s in the bag?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bread rolls,” and Saurfang pulled out a few to show him. They were probably a little stale, but they looked good and Anduin reached out a hand for one if for no other reason than having Saurfang feed him that would put the man’s fingers dangerously close to his mouth and he wasn’t sure what his hindbrain would decide to do about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They ate the handful of buns in comfortable quiet, and for all Anduin wished to stay awake and revel in the older man’s presence, he found his eyelids drooping. Saurfang tucked him in and bid him goodnight, before leaving the tent with the bowls and bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>As the meeting in Orgrimmar wound down, Anduin drew closer to Saurfang’s side, hoping perhaps he wouldn’t need to ask the High Overlord for a tour of the ramparts this time because the last three times he’d tried the words had choked up in his throat and he’d ended up bidding the man goodnight. Saurfang looked down at him as he siddled up next to him and chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If it’s a tour your after I should warn you I’m not a particularly good guide,” Saurfang informed him with a solemnity that Anduin thought, from the twinkle in his eye and the twitch of his lips around his tusks, might have been a joke. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m more looking for an escort than a tour guide. Wouldn’t want to get lost and end up absolutely wasted at a bar again,” he smiled back, but the man’s face turned into a genuine frown.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I never did ask if there was a reason you were drinking that night,” Saurfang said, but he motioned for Anduin to follow as he went to make his rounds around the upper ledge of Orgrimmar and the southern ramparts. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin thought for a moment, unsure how to answer, “I’m not really sure, to be honest. Maybe I just wanted a little freedom, maybe I wanted to see if I could get away with it. I’m… I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Saurfang was looking at him strangely, “You never got to be a teenager did you? Not really, anyway?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I suppose that’s right. I’ve been in and out of the seat of King since I was ten.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s reason enough to drink, I think,” Saurfang said, and they walked in silence for a while after that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When they reached the ramparts, looking out over the desert of Durotar on one side and the guttering firelight of the city on the other, Anduin felt something full and content unfurl in his chest. The city was beautiful at night, lanterns in the street and in windows illuminating the denizens that still walked about, and the bright moon above glowing down into the canyon like a silver sun. Anduin glanced over at Saurfang and was surprised to find himself being watched, and though he’d thought he might have had their positions been reversed, Saurfang didn’t look away when he met his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a beautiful view,” Anduin whispered, unwilling to disturb the quiet serenity of the night.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it is,” he replies, and reached out ever so delicately to brush the hair back from Anduin’s face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anduin felt flames in his cheeks, but he didn’t look away, not wanting to waste the moment he’d hoped to get now that it was in his grasp, “I find myself tired, High Overlord, perhaps if it isn’t too much of a burden, you could carry me back to the hold?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leaned forward and rested his hand on Saurfang’s bicep, momentarily distracted from everything around him by the density of muscle there. Then Saurfang was stepping closer, voice low, “If that’s what you desire, majesty, who am I to refuse you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, he was hefted into strong, sturdy arms and held against Saurfang’s chest in much the same position he had been when he’d been carried home drunk, months ago, and like that prior occasion, he nuzzled into Saurfang’s neck and reveled in his scent. However, this time he was sober and present to feel the vibration of Saurfang’s answering growl and the clenching of his hands on Anduin’s thigh and waist. He hummed, nuzzling closer still and let himself enjoy the man’s strength and steadiness… and kindness. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It's late but it's here. Day 7 may or may not happen, we'll see how I'm feeling about it when I get around to writing for this pairing again. This is my first prompt week, and I'm pretty happy with everything I got done though, even if it isn't everything. Thanks for all the comments, everyone, you're all the best ❤❤</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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